Hollow Moon
by Amelia Cooke
Summary: What if Light kills L early on? At least, that's what he's lead to believe. Who will band together to defeat the crazed honor student?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Bad Wolf**

"Just one more, please, Light," Ryuk whined, gazing longingly at the two apples on the student's desk. Light picked one up and flicked it over his head towards his bed. Reaching out a long arm, Ryuk caught the treat from his position floating upside down above the bed.

"Shut up, I'm trying to figure some things out," The teen stated, his eyes never leaving his notebook, pencil tapping on the paper. Ryuk glided to the desk and peered over Light's shoulder. Half of the page was blank, but the other half detailed a list of steps, each numbered off down to step twenty-four.

"Damn, Someone's been busy," The shinigami hummed. He finished his apple. "What is this about anyway?"

"This is my victory, Ryuk," Light smirked, leaning back so the other could get a better look at the details. Ryuk picked up the notebook "This is how I will kill L."

"It looks like you're missing some," he handed it back to the teen. Light scanned page.

"Yes," He picked up the pencil, scribbling a line after step twenty-four. "I still need to actually kill him. I need his name. To get his name, I need to befriend him. These steps will help me accomplish that."

"I know a much easier way," Ryuk cackled. He moved two fingers closer to his thumb, his grin widening until it nearly eclipsed his face. "And it'll only cost you a little."

Light shot him a sideways glance. "There is no easier a way. In all of the simulations I've run, any less than these twenty-four steps and I would be discovered."

"I gotta tell you, for being as smart as you are, you're missing something." Ryuk reached around Light's right side, plucking the apple off his desk. He tossed the red fruit into the air and seamlessly caught it on it's return journey. Ryuk bit off a large chunk of the apple. "I follow your dad to work at the task force and see L. I'll see his name instantly."

"How?" The student looked genuinely curious now. Ryuk held up the apple by the tips of his fingers, gently twisting it around to see the other side, seemingly uninterested in Light's sudden inquisitiveness.

"Shinigami can see a person's name above their head just by looking at them. It's how we know how much time we're getting when we kill them off." In one fell swoop, he finished off the fruit. Looking back at Light, he grinned, exposing the bits of apple hanging off his sharp teeth.

Light turned away, disgusted. "If I were to agree, what's the price?"

"Apples."

"Apples?" The teen was incredulous. "You're telling me that if I give you apples, you'll give me L's name? A few apples will help me destroy L?"

The death god laughed, a deep, hollow sound that filled Light's room.

* * *

 _Kira got them. There's no other explanation._

Those seven words repeated inside his head hauntingly. L looked away from the monitor and paced back and forth. His stomach churned and he couldn't help the glare whenever his laptop entered his line of vision. The blank screen taunted the detective. If it weren't for him, twelve people would still be alive. It was his fault twelve families are now being informed that a loved one would never return.

He should have kept better tabs on those FBI agents instead of focusing on criminals. They were more important than mere outlaws. Frustrated, L stopped pacing. What was going on with him? _Why am I acting like this?_ He glanced at the door. He needed to clear his head. There was no possibility of working on a case while like this. L grabbed his keys from a side table, slipped on shoes, and walked out the door.

Why do people commit crimes?

It was a question L had come across countless times throughout his life and one he probably would continue to interact with for the rest of his life. Across history, horrific atrocities, genocide, riots, killings, and other abhorrent, unlawful behavior have been committed more times than he cared to count. There are many answers, but none that the detective found satisfying. All were merely justifications in poor ethics. The displacement of responsibility on someone else, usually a leader, the Machiavellian concept of the end justifying the means, the devaluing of victims, hazing, and diffusion of responsibility are all popular excuses that have been used for every unlawful act he'd ever observed. All of these 'reasons' involved morality. It was amazing what some can convince themselves of under the guise of morals. Why do people believe they can disregard the law and still come out unscathed, heralded as a purveyor of good judgement?

L sighed, his breath rose in a warm cloud around the surrounding air before diffusing into the atmosphere. This was the problem he had with these answers. None seemed enough to make defying the law enticing, so it was unfathomable why some people did so. If he could just imagine performing something unlawful, it might help his understanding. Not that he would truly commit a crime anyways. He was a detective, one who fought for justice. L shivered.

 _Rain._

He hadn't noticed it before, but everything was wet, including himself. His white shirt and jeans were clinging to his skin and the wind seemed to cut right through both materials. _It might be time to head back._ Looking around, everything was unrecognizable. _Have I been walking that long? I should call Watari_.

It took some effort to force his hands into his wet pockets to find his phone. They came up empty. Of all of the times to not have his phone on his person, this may be the-

* * *

It was raining.

It wasn't a terrible storm, there were no trees bending harshly with the wind nor were there drops pounding against the window. It was a fairly calm storm, just heavy enough to keep everyone inside.

She sighed, resting her arms on the windowsill and leaning her forehead on the cool glass. The meteorologists on the news expected it to get worse as the afternoon wore on.

She wrinkled her nose at the thought. It was extremely boring being cooped up here, unable to go anywhere. Outside was so much better than being in the Castle. Albeit still in the center of Tokyo and all of the pollutants that come with it, being outside of this stone and steel building made her feel so much more free. She glanced down at the street below, nearly devoid of life despite it being midday. A lone umbrella passed by once every few minutes. Kagome's eyes to slowly glazed over watching the scenery below.

That is, until something ensnared her senses. Surprised, she scanned the sidewalk below closer, eyebrows furrowed. A man was standing in the middle of the street without an umbrella, his head hanging low. The rain soaked through his clothing. _He could get sick!_ He didn't seem to notice or even care. His sadness ate away at her senses all the way from here, on the sixth floor of the Castle, and she wasn't even trying to sense anything. The man's despair and confusion seemed to call out, seeking something. Help, maybe?

 _I can't leave him alone out there._

Her heart ached for the stranger, standing in the rain, not even caring for his own well-being. Kagome looked away from the window, chewing on her bottom lip. Should she help him? How would she help him? Have a long chat over tea? Coffee? What crazy person would agree to come into a stranger's home and talk about their personal lives? _I have to try…_ She looked back through the window to make sure he was still there and immediately jumped up from her spot on the couch before grabbing her coat off the hook on the door and sprinting down the stairs.

He was still there. Or at least his body was.

In a bloody heap on the ground. His limbs warped and twisted at unnatural angles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Reaching the ground floor took far too long. Kagome tore across the atrium, through the front entrance. The man was down the block. He must have been dragged by the truck. Blood pooled around him, soaked through and staining his clothes, mixing with the rain and dirt. The man was clearly dead.

 _I can bring people back to life, right?_

Power filled her very core, overflowing from of every crack and crevice in her soul, seeping into the air around her. The hum of her powers drowned out the rain, giving Kagome the answer she needed. The priestess placed her glowing hands on the strange man.

She could feel the denseness of his aura, the sense of heaviness that only came with the deceased. It seemed to drag down his soul, like it was trapped in chains. It only seemed to get heavier and the chains felt so real, so _lifelike_.

 _Underworld demons…_ Kagome has only seen them a couple of times before, this was her third meeting with the imps. She had to have been doing something right if she could see them now. The teenage miko grit her teeth, leaned over his body and forcing as much of her energy into the man as possible. His body exploded with light, the last remnants of death ceding from his soul. Kagome leaned back, breathing rapidly. It was over. She saved his life.

She was brought back to reality by a raindrop hitting her cheek, near her eye. Blinking, Kagome looked around. To the man now unconscious in the middle of the road, to her building half a block away, and then up to her suite on the sixth floor.

 _Fuck._

Dragging him all the way up there was going to take _forever_. The teenage priestess sighed, her drenched locks falling into her line of vision, ends just barely pooling onto the man's chest. She caught her breath and picked herself up. Bending over the unconscious stranger, she received a close-up view of his face. _He's kind of cute._ Her cheeks tinged with pink at the thought. This was not the time for such things. Kagome grabbed him around the middle, just under his arms, and lifted. For being so slim, he was extraordinarily heavy.

"How much muscle does he even have?" She grunted, slowly dragging his lower body to the sidewalk and to the shelter of her building. The rain pounded down on them for what seemed like hours as she inched them both over to the entryway. Her muscles burned with the exertion, every step compounding the feeling until, finally, her feet crossed the opening to the lobby. Sighing out of exhaustion, she collapsed to the floor, the man landing partially on top of her. Wiggling around, she was able to push him off herself, breathing heavily from the effort. She fished her cellphone out of her back pocket. She chose a contact and called.

"Shippo, it's me," She paused, trying to catch her breath and waiting for a reply. "I'm at the Castle and I need help w—hello? Shippo?"

Kagome looked at her smartphone. The screen was flickering and moving erratically. The rain must have damaged it. The screen brightened and seemed to steady itself, before it died completely.

"Shit." _He's going to think I'm in trouble, poor Shippo._ The miko tossed her now useless phone. It clattered across the sidewalk, bouncing off the curb and coming to rest in the street, the screen cracked. She would have to get another one tomorrow. She leaned back against the cool stone wall. There was nothing to do, but wait for her adopted son to arrive.

* * *

Light stared at the nearly blank page before him. On it was a single name, written in pristine script. L Lawliet. The entire page was beautiful, the physicality of the clear, smooth paper and the way each character perfectly drawn. What made it the pinnacle of beauty was the meaning hidden behind this two words. They symbolized a god-like ability, the power to create paradise itself, for in those two words, Light has destroyed his only major opposition. A satisfied smile spread across his lips as he leaned back in his chair. His work was complete for now.

Ryuk hovered by the student's bookshelves, tossing one apple after another into his gaping mouth. Light stayed true to his word and had brought two sacks of apples home from a large chain store for the death god. They were laying propped up against the wall in between his bed and his desk. Ryuk chewed loudly, breaking Light out of his reverie. Pausing, the shinigami asked, "So, what now? This seems awfully boring."

"Now, we wait," Light said simply. "His body has to be found and the ICPO and Kira task force has to be told. They will have to find another way to defeat Kira. This will take about another twenty-four hours, depending on when his body is found. I imagine an emergency ICPO meeting will take place after."

"What a buzzkill," Ryuk grabbed another apple from the first sack. It was nearly empty now. "What are we gonna do until then?"

" _I_ am going to play the role of dutiful student and son. I couldn't care less about what you do." With that, Kira slid the death note to the side of his desk and placed a calculus book in front of him. He fished into his bag for a notebook and pencil.


	3. Chapter 3

"Mom!"

Kagome looked up. Shippo was running to her at full speed. He picked her up, held her at arm's length, and inspected her every detail. Despite him no longer being as tiny as he was in the Feudal Era, he would always be her adorable, little kit.

"Are you okay? Your call had me worried."

The miko smiled up at him. "I'm fine, I just need help getting this man upstairs," She gestured to the unconscious man on the ground behind her, forcing the fox's attention onto the stranger. When his gaze lingered on the dark red stains that littered his clothes, she elaborated, "I saved his life. He can't stay out in the cold."

Shippo snorted, her maternal tendencies showing through. "Fine, I'll help you bring a man into your room."

He turned serious. "On one condition. I stay until he leaves," before the priestess could argue, he continued. "We don't know who he is, Mom. He could be pulling an intricate prank just to kidnap you or worse. He could be that demon, Kira, that's all over the news. If you're going to bring a complete stranger inside past all the security Sesshomaru set in place, then I'm staying."

He crossed his arms, as if daring her to argue. He was the sweetest son she could have ever asked for. Kagome smiled. "Deal."

The hike up the six floors to her suite of rooms went by fairly painlessly with a demon doing all of the hard labor. Kagome opened her door and went to work creating a space for the stranger on her couch. She got to work making some tea for the two of the while her son set the man down on the blanket she placed on the couch.

"Strong or weak?" Kagome asked. Shippo sat himself down on a stool by her counter, gazing at her pointedly as if saying _'do you really have to ask?'_ "Stupid question."

"So, why did you save him?" Kitsune were definitely curious beings. Kagome stirred the tea leaves into the teapot, choosing her words carefully. _Why did I save him?_ He was a complete stranger. They had no connection, so why did she put so much effort into healing him? She cast a glance toward the young man in the living room. He seemed so lonely, so desperate for something she couldn't quite place, that his spirit called out to her. Kagome didn't realize she had spoken her thoughts out loud until she was being pulled into a hug. Shippo had moved from his spot to beside her.

"I understand."

Kagome turned around to face her son, wrapping her arms around him in the process. "It's just been so hard. You all have had five hundred years, I've had weeks."

"Are you still having nightmares?" He whispered the question. Her grip on him tightened. "Mom… You can always talk to me about this."

"I… can't yet," She let go, glancing at the still unconscious man on her couch before turning back to her son. He had walked back to his spot on the stool. "What happens when you bring someone back to life?"

Shippo looked away, thoughtfully. "All I know is from my interactions with Tenseiga, but there seems to be a sort of bond that forms between the deceased and the life-giver." He leaned forward, resting his arms upon the counter. "Why? You could have asked Sesshomaru this. He knows more about this than I do."

"I didn't have time to think," Kagome handed him a cup of green tea. The scent of the strong brew wafted through the kitchen. She sipped her own before finishing, the liquid warming her up. She was still soaking wet from the rain. "He was hit by a truck, dead by the time I got down. It took a lot of energy and I wasn't entirely certain I could, but I did it. I brought him back to life."

"Well, damn," Shippo cursed, awe filling his voice as he set down his tea. "Just how strong are you? I've never heard of a priestess being able to do that."

"I don't know," She answered honestly. In truth, she hadn't really thought about being stronger than she was when they defeated Naraku. It's was probably childish, but she thought that was her limit and she could be no stronger.

She was clearly wrong. Somehow, her powers had continued to grow without training them, which was a little worrisome and exciting at the same time. What if she hurt someone without meaning to? What if she hurt Shippo? This was definitely something to discuss with Sesshomaru and soon.

"I think it would be a good idea to tell Sesshomaru about this, you know, after," He gulped down the rest of his drink and set the cup upon the counter. "He'll flip when he finds out."


	4. Chapter 4

L stirred from his sleep, his head gently falling to the side. The detective's head pounded and he winced, groaning from the pain.

What happened?

The FBI agents, walking, it raining, and then...

 _Dead. I must be dead._

His chest constricted with guilt. Watari, Near, Matt, Mello, all those people…he left them in Kira's clutches. That criminal will continue to assert his crazed fantasy upon the world until his protégés prevail against him, whomever he is. He had no doubt they would succeed, for they amounted to him in every way. Matt's quick, sharp reasoning had surpassed Mello's and Near's over the years. Combining his ability to assess situations with Near's technical strengths and Mello's boldness and creativity, they created him, L. There was just one problem, Mello's hardheaded tendencies. He disliked Near and himself. Where Matt and Near functioned in sync with each other, Mello was on another level. He performed at a wholly different pace, part of which was the reason the kid wasn't his sole successor. Mello needed to be grounded by the other two. If not—

The detective's eyes snapped open. His arms were pinned down, one above his head and the other angled over the edge of whatever sort of chair he was laying on, by the dark haired woman above him. His legs were similarly constricted by a male with auburn hair. Relief flooded his body. _What exactly is going on?_ _I'm not dead?_

He didn't realize he spoke those words out loud, until the male snorted and released his lower half.

"No, you definitely died," The lanky redhead pulled out a chair from the table and sat. "Tell me, how was the other side? Which religion got it right?"

"Shippo!" The woman scolded him. Obviously they have a close relationship. How close, he did not know. He tried to sit up, but the pounding inside his skull only grew worse. He was thankful she forced him back down. "You shouldn't get up just yet. You were in a pretty bad accident."

L cast them a calculating look. He was nearly certain that these people could be trusted with filling him in on his memory lapse. "I was taking a walk, thinking about work, then nothing. What happened?"

The man, Shippo, took a long sip of his tea. She sighed, obviously internally debating about something. "You were hit by some big car, I think. I happened to look down from this window." she gestured to the window to his left, behind the couch, before continuing. "And I saw you standing in the middle of the road, but when I looked back a few moments later, you were in a bloody heap way down the block. I ran down to you—"

His pulse quickened. He could see it now, a clear picture inside his own mind. The headlights came out of nowhere, careening toward him.

"—I'm sorry to say this, but—"

The impact. Eyes scrunched shut, he could feel it all now. The broken femur, three crushed ribs, shattered wrist, broken arm, compressed spine, collapsed lung… he had never felt something as incredibly painful as this before.

"—you died…"

His hearing faded as he absorbed this memory of his death. He was definitely dead, that much was obvious. He looked away from the two ghosts, disgust boiling over at his own subconscious. This was the cruelest joke. Only his own mind could make it all feel so real. From the way he felt the differences in pressure of the two restraining him and the softness of the fabric he was on to the scent of the green tea Shippo drank and the interaction between the two, it all could have only come from him. L turned his ghost head away from the two and sighed, refusing to open his eyes and look at any more of the lies his mind created.

He was without a doubt dead.


	5. Chapter 5

"I don't understand; does he not want to live?" Kagome sent a quizzical look to Shippo, who was seated at the other end of the table rolling his empty tea cup back and forth across the side. She had just finished explaining to the stranger that she resuscitated him when he curled in on himself and turned away, refusing to respond.

"Try poking him," The fox offered disinterestedly.

"Hell no! You saw how he responded before. He has training," The priestess huffed, sending a quick glare to the rolling cup. She wasn't going to be put in that position again. Her expression softened, she looked up at the redhead with large, doe eyes, and her hands clasped to her chest. "If only there was a brave, strong son willing to come to the rescue of his poor, sweet mother..."

Shippo sighed. "Dammit, Mom, you're the Shikon Miko. Stop trying to guilt me into doing things you don't want to."

"But you're going to do it, right?" She gave him a smile with just the right amount of cheek. Too much would annoy him and then they'd be back at square one. "After all, I learned from the best."

"Yeah, yeah," The fox rolled his eyes, giving his mother a mock glare. He walked a few steps until he was near the couch and crouched down. The man was curled into a fetal position, facing the inside of the couch. Shippo lifted an arm and poked him in the center of his back. "Hey."

Nothing.

He tried again, harder this time. "Hey."

The stranger's bloodstained shirt rustled with the force of the movement, but nothing happened.

"Hey!" Shippo used his palm to push the man's shoulder, his whole bod going forward with the movement. There was nothing but silence as the man's body fell back to its initial position.

"Did he die again?"

Shippo sniffed the air. "No. I think he just believes he's still dead. Either that or he's narcoleptic."

"Oh."

Their silence lasted for minutes as they watched the strange man on her couch, until she broke it.

"What do we do now?"

"I guess all we can do is wait," Shippo sighed. They both turned their attentions back to the stranger and waited. The silence was deafening. It settled upon everything, thickening the air, making every movement seem magnitudes heavier. He checked his phone. "Oh my god, it's only been two minutes."

-.-.-.-.-.-

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

L continued this exercise until everything faded away. All of the pain, the fear, anger, despair, it all left his mind. While it may be a futile exercise for the deceased, he didn't care. Meditation calmed him during the times where he just couldn't stay logical, not that it happened often. He reveled in the feel of his lungs slowly expanding and contracting, his muscles loosening and relaxing, his—lungs. He had lungs. Both of them. Working and seemingly healthy. _What?_

How was this possible? Did ghosts not keep their injuries after death? What in the world was going on? Frustrated and confused, L wanted to shout. This was all becoming too surreal. He needed to ground himself, to get back to the irrefutable truth. He needed to use Occam's razor.

What did he know with absolute certainty?

Firstly, he was alive and well this morning. Then, he received a call from the director of the FBI about his agents' deaths and went on a walk. While on the walk, he was…hit by a truck. With all of the injuries he sustained, he clearly died. Yet he was here now, thinking more or less coherently. Either he didn't die or the supernatural did exist.

Of the two choices, it was much more probable that he never died. Then how did his injuries just disappear? And why did two people give testimony to his death? There was a 95.3% this entire ordeal was a plot set by Kira, the final 4.7% split between other enemies and it all being a dream. It was a high chance that someone wanted him dead, so who was he to argue? It was time for Project Lazarus. He needed to call Watari.

The detective opened his eyes only to come face-to-face with plush cushions. The same ones he saw before. He sat up and looked around. The lights were off and no one was around. The two people from before were probably sleeping, it was clearly late at night. Gazing around the room confirmed his suspicions. It wasn't a dream. How did all of his injuries heal so quickly?

L stood, moving slowly around the table and into the kitchen. The floorboards softly creaked below his feet. There was no house phone and he didn't have his cell. Was there a laptop nearby? Or a cellphone? He retraced his steps to the couch and looked around, peering under the table and couch until he saw it. A slim, silver laptop hiding under a magazine on the side table. He grabbed the electronic item, sat down on the couch, and set to work. He fumbled for the power button and booted the machine. A login screen soon appeared, blindingly bright in the dark apartment.

 _Damn._

That was a dead end. If he knew more about the owner of this laptop, he could easily guess the password.

"It's not nice to snoop through other peoples' things."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six: Project Lazarus**

Damn.

He was caught red-handed. It was difficult to discern where she was; the glow from the laptop overpowered his ability to make out shapes in the apartment. He heard more than saw the woman walk over to where he was and sit down next to him. The detective stayed silent, watching her, waiting for her to make the next move. There were two distinct possibilities as to what would happen next.

One, the simplest and most favorable, would be if she would answer his questions and give him a way to contact Watari, but it seemed semi-improbable.

Two, she would be angry at him for trying to go through her personal belongings, refuse to fully answer his questions, and send him on his way without a means of contacting his long-time friend and partner. This scenario seemed more likely.

"So," she began, lifting her computer from his lap and setting it on her own. He could see her face clearly now. She had large dark blue eyes and a clear complexion that was framed by long black hair. Pretty was the word that came to mind when he looked at her. "What did you want to know?"

"You said I was dead," He searched her face, which was lit up by the laptop, looking for any clues or telltale signs of falsehoods. "How am I here now?"

"I saved you," she met his eyes before adding, "somehow."

"Somehow?"

The woman nodded. "I've never actually tried that before. I'm glad it worked."

L shifted into his favorite sitting position. He wanted that extra 40% of mental agility and deductive reasoning. "Let's say I believe you. How did you save me?"

"I'm not really allowed to tell you," she sighed, her entire body moving in the action. Her dark tresses fell over her shoulder and the detective had to resist the urge to fix it. He shoved that to the back of his mind. This was neither the time nor the place. "I know that sounds sketchy, but it's the truth. I need permission before I can tell you very much."

"What can you tell me now?" He pressed. He could barely contain his curiosity. With whatever happened, whatever she was a part of, there was a hierarchy, a set of rules that needed to be obeyed. This was much bigger than her and he wanted to understand it all.

"Um," She played with her hands, looking down at them as she thought. It was several moments before she spoke again. "I am a priestess. I have a certain set of powers, the extent of which I cannot say."

"But you're strong enough to have brought a man back to life," L supplied, finishing her thought.

Her gaze lifted, eyes locked on his own. "Yes. For now, you'll just have to trust me on this."

This entire conversation was built upon the premise of him believing her story, which _sounded_ unlikely, but with every second it was becoming less and less improbable. It fit with his own observations of the previous day's events. Eventually, he nodded in acceptance. Now, he had an entirely different lineup of tasks to set in motion. Kira had to be taken care of. Project Lazarus needed to be enacted and quickly.

"Can I borrow your phone?"

She grimaced. "Unfortunately, no. It got waterlogged when I helped you. It's completely fried."

"Oh. Can I use your laptop to email my partner?"

"Huh? Oh, sure," She typed in her password quickly and logged in. He could only catch something about "fire" and "rat" without looking too suspicious. She handed the device to him. "Here you go… What was your name? I think we skipped that bit earlier."

"Ryuzaki," L supplied smoothly.

She smiled and stood. "Kagome. Nice to meet you, Ryuzaki-san. Now, what do you say to some breakfast?"

"Thank you, Kagome-san." He set to work locating her web browser. Contacting Watari was his first priority, then snooping through her internet history and files. She, Kagome, walked into her kitchen and began to make them both some food. Once logged in to his secure email system, he typed out a simple message to Watari.

 _Project Lazarus is go._

 _Add surveillance to headquarters that's fed directly to my laptop_.

The detective sent the brief message before opening her browser history. Nothing too interesting, mostly news sites, To-Oh University, her email, social media, and weather. She seemed normal for someone who claimed to have superhuman powers. Closing the web browser, he glanced into the kitchen. Kagome was busy taking ingredients out of her refrigerator. Now, it was time to have a look at what she kept on her computer.

-.-.-.-.-.-

"We're all that's left." Matsuda gazed around the room that was full of agents not even three minutes ago. Now, it was just the five of them. Chief Yagami, Aizawa, Mogi, Ukita, and himself.

"Can you blame them?" Ukita asked. He dropped back into his chair and leaned back, crossing his legs while he did so. "What we're doing is dangerous. Kira even killed those FBI agents, he won't think twice about murdering the police."

"Twenty-three resignations," Chief Yagami sighed, counting the papers in his hands. He dropped them onto his desk at the front of the room and took off his glasses, and massaged his temples for a moment. "That's most everyone. Are you all absolutely positive you want to stay on this case?"

"Yes!" Matsuda nearly shouted. He wanted more than anything to bring Kira to justice, especially after the most recent attacks. "We will find Kira and he will be put behind bars!"

"I agree," Mogi nodded in affirmation.

"Seconded," Ukita saluted from his chair.

"Me, too," Aizawa agreed. "We will bring him to justice."

"That's good to hear."

They all turned to see who spoke. It was someone he'd only seen a couple times before and, judging by the others' expressions, he recognized him as well. It was the older man from the ICPO meeting, the one who worked with L. He was dressed in a similar fashion today, brown trench coat over a dark blue suit.

"In case you don't remember me, I am Watari," He smiled at the small group of investigators. He walked further into the room. "I work with L and he has asked me to relay a message to you."

"He still wants to work with us even though 90% of our task force quit today?" Mogi questioned, surprised.

Watari's smile softened as he glanced at the younger man. "In fact, that is the only reason he wants to continue working with you. Your ranks have closed and now everyone here can be trusted." He gazed around the entire room before continuing. "L wants to meet all of you."

-.-.-.-.-.-

Once they were all seated comfortably in the sleek black towncar, Watari addressed the group again.

"I must apologize. I lied before. We are not going to see L."

"What?" Their exclamations overlapped each other's. They each wore similar expressions of shock as they stared at the Englishman.

"What do you mean?" Yagami Soichiro questioned his eyes narrowing at the old man.

"The circumstances of this investigation have changed. L is gone," Watari turned solemn. "I am taking you to meet his successors. I must ask that you all to keep up the guise to the public that L is still here. His successors will still address the world under 'L' in order to achieve a measure of consistency. I trust you all understand why."

"Ah, yes," Yagami nodded. "If the public were to find out that L is gone, there would be widespread chaos."

"What a way to bring in the new year," Matsuda sighed. "The greatest detective in the world is dead."

"Do we know what happened to him?" Ukita asked.

"We believe it was Kira," The Englishman supplied. "This is why it is of utmost importance for you all to guard your names closely. Do not give anyone your full name from this point onwards and please protect your online profile as well. Delete any photos of yourselves online or deactivate your accounts on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and any other social media. They are all now weapons that can be used against you."

Before anything else could be said, the car stopped. Watari glanced out the window.

"We've arrived."


End file.
